Family Reunion
by Tib Dunncan
Summary: Octavia has waited her whole life for this: Her chance to perform at her Family Reunion. However, her plans for the night are "Scratched" due to a certain mare who happens to be performing as well: Her sister.


Octavia had been preparing for this night for months. It'd been nearly a decade since she'd seen most of her family, and she was a far cry from nonchalant about the affair. This event was the chance to show her family how far she'd come. Almost everypony in her family was a musical prodigy, and she was no exception. She'd soared above everypony she knew, everypony she'd ever preformed with and was now part of the most prestigious orchestra in Equestria. She was to perform the same piece as she did the night of the Grand Galloping Gala, possibly alone, possibly with a sister or cousin – it didn't matter to her. Once she began playing, the low, sweet notes of the cello were all she could hear, all that really mattered.

Anyway, she planned to outdo them all.

Octavia reveled in the simple fact that she was naturally regal. Perhaps it was her time spent in Canterlot, studying under some of Equestria's most celebrated composers, that had given her a lofty air, but it suited her. While other ponies dolled themselves up and belittled their performance with lace or sparkles, all she needed was a simple bowtie – that in itself a sign that she was clean cut and professional. None of that false grandeur that her contemporaries used. Shabby, that.

She surveyed herself in the mirror above her bed, catching a glimpse of rich wood from the corner of her eye. A rare smile found its way onto her face as she looked approvingly at her instrument.

This was going to be _some_ night.

* * *

><p>Someone was already playing when she arrived at the performing arts hall. Judging by the nasal tones lining the mystery mare's voice, it was one of her cousins from Fillydelphia. Dolce, most likely. She always had a soft spot for the opera.<p>

Mandatory greetings ensued. Her mother and father were, naturally, the center of attention. Though she would never admit owing her success to anything but raw talent, she had to acknowledge that they were the ones who had gotten her where she was today. Without their constant _hounding_ she very well might have skipped her cello classes as a filly. Where she would be then made her ill just thinking about it.

Conversations were peppered throughout the evening, the mandatory lies, telling family members you forgot you even had that you missed them. The Clef family was impossibly large, there was no way she was expected to remember every one of them, some that she hadn't seen since she was a filly; some she had never met before at all!

A drink here and there and the night became a warm blur. She would never dream of drinking enough to impair her performance, but a sip or two couldn't hurt. A buzz never hurt anyone, as her father used to say.

Octavia glanced at the clock on the front wall. It was getting late, and she was getting impatient. When was she going to perform? This was getting absurd, and Heartstrings had been up there for the last forty minutes at least, playing some piece on her lyre. That noise coupled with the slight tipsy she had was almost enough to lull her to sleep in the warm and densely packed reunion.

She almost wished it had been enough. Maybe then she could've later convinced herself that it was all a horrific nightmare.

She stood in one corner of the room, staring longingly up at the stage, where her cello was supported neatly, awaiting her. The reunion had turned to a dull roar in her ears, punctuated occasionally by a hello or a good evening. Frankly, she realized as her own mother said hello for the third time, she was zoning out. This was so _boring_.

Suddenly, a voice cut above the din, snapping her out of her state of half-consciousness. "Look out, sis!"

What happened next was a blur of red carpet, electric blue and white as Treble landed ungracefully on top of her. Wires were tangled around her horn and her brutish goggles knocked askew. As they came to a rest on the floor, she let out an exhilarated laugh. "Sorry, Tavi! Just fixing the lights for my performance!"

Octavia turned several different shades of red at this, noticing that the Half twins were watching, giggling silently to one another.

"Half Note, Half Rest, aren't you two supposed to be in the filly's quarters?" the mare scolded, making the two gallop off in alarm. If their mother only knew…

"Awe, lighten up, Tavi! Hey, kids! Watch this!" With the stomp of a hoof, Treble flipped a switch that sprung one of her cockamamie light fixtures, the light nearly falling directly on Octavia. With a growing sense of dread, Treble adjusted her headphone, taking a deep breath…

Heartstrings's lyre rang out its final notes. That was her cue!

Grateful as anything, Octavia excused herself and trotted to the stage, unspeakably glad to be out of _that_ situation.

She marveled at the fact that she was the _younger_ of the two and still a million times more mature. Honestly, she didn't understand how she and Treble were even related, not that Treble wanted anypony to know, apparently. These days, she went by a stage name. She called herself _Vinyl Scratch_. What kind of a name was that? She might as well have called herself White Noise.

As she picked up her bow and positioned her cello, she guessed that the name White Noise never occurred to Treble, or else she would be going by that. Whatever seemed more vulgar tended to be Treble's specialty.

Her piece went smoothly, as expected. It was a beautiful piece, if she may say so herself. It had to be beautiful. Only the most beautiful music was played at the Grand Galloping Gala, and only by the best musicians.

She focused every part of her into her music. This was everything that she ever worked towards, more than the Gala. This was her family she was playing for, the only ones who's opinions mattered, mattered more than the Princesses'.

The hall had fallen silent when her piece began – or so she thought. She couldn't be sure, as she couldn't actually hear them over her music, but she was fairly certain. There was only one disturbance the entire length of the piece: Vinyl.

Throughout their childhood, Treble had been a loud, obtrusive mare, shouting things she could have whispered and running amuck everywhere. But now, at the highlight of Octavia's career, the most important performance of her life, she was up on that blasted scaffolding adjusting some light and making unpleasant thumping noises with the stereo system every time she moved the wrong way. Why in the name of Celestia couldn't she have shown up early like all the other performers and done her devil's work then? No, of course it had to be right in the middle of Octavia's piece.

Grand.

Her playing picked up tempo of its own accord. This was not written into the music that was dutifully placed in front of her on a stand, as if she needed it. This change in tempo was unbridled anger, a simmering annoyance at her annoyance of a sister.

She had to remember to find out who invited her.

As the cello gave a final strum, its sweet notes filling the air, cutting through the applause, Octavia looked up at her sister to see her pumping a hoof and lowering her goggles over her blood red eyes. Her hind hoof kicked to the side, hitting another switch that killed the lights, plunging them all into a moment of panic-stricken darkness, until her ungodly lights flickered to life, bathing them all in a psychedelic sea of nausea.

For a moment, Octavia thought it was the sickening way the room seemed to spin with lights, but she could swear she heard her cello playing. A glance at her bow confirmed her suspicions: she had stopped playing. So what was that noise?

As the seconds ticked by, the clear, sweet notes of the cello crescendo, louder than almost anything she'd ever heard. This was _her_ playing! This was _her_ music, coming out of Treble's speakers!

She frowned in confusion as her sister jumped from the scaffolding above their heads and landed in the corner of the room where the rest of her equipment was. "DJ P0N-3 here, everyone having a stellar night or what? Alright, enough with the classics – let's hear something with a little Scratch!"

Treble put her front hooves up on her equipment table, which upon further inspection, Octavia found to be a record turntable.

Oh, sweet Celestia, no.

Under her beautiful cello notes came another noise, a pulsing beat that shook the ground and rattled the chandeliers. It grew in its intensity until it matched her own music.

"This one's for you, Tavi!" she nearly screamed into her headset. The lights shut off as the music comes to a fortissimo before it abruptly stops.

In the split second, Octavia hopes and prays that her sister doesn't do it, that her turntable malfunctions, that someone has a heart attack – anything that would prevent Treble from continuing. Her own heart hammers in her chest and she feels that she might get her wish about someone having a serious medical problem.

The lights pulse back on with every beat as the speakers scream in protest at the noise coming out of them. Her music, horribly twisted and warped beyond recognition as Treble scratched her hooves across the records made Octavia want to scream louder than the senseless noise that her sister called music.

It wasn't her piece anymore. She'd scratched that into oblivion. This was something new, foreign and dirty and it made her teeth hurt.

She climbed down from the stage and wanted to go hide, but there were too many ponies around and everyone knew Treble was doing this piece for her. It would have been rude to just leave in the middle of her performance. Dutifully, she planted her flank on the ground and clenched her teeth, waiting for it to be over. Only when the noise returned to her sweet melodies did she relax, but only marginally.

She glanced around at her family. Some were stomping a hoof to the beat; others were actually dancing, as if this were one of those barbaric raves. It drove her mad.

The music became louder than ever as the speakers screamed the final movement of Octavia's piece. A synthesized buzzing accompanied it, clashing horribly and producing a sickly sour note that made her put her ears back, as if doing so would shut the noise out.

The lights flickered on and off again in an epileptic seizure inducing finale, colors being thrown haphazardly into ever corner of the room.

Octavia couldn't even hear herself, which she was partially thankful for as she swore loudly, cursing the floor for bending to her sister's musical disgrace.

The room went black again as everypony went absolutely _wild_. Octavia could hear her mother's voice behind her, over the ear-splitting roar of the crowd. "_Did you hear that, Tavi_?" she practically screamed into her daughter's ear. "_She did that for YOU_! _How sweet!_"

So sweet, Octavia thought, grateful for the dark, that she wanted to gag.


End file.
